


Dance With Death

by orphan_account



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - High School, Bisexuality, Coming Out, Daddy Issues, F/F, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Sex, Internalized Homophobia, Lesbian AU, Self-Destruction, Smoking, i think that's what this is, really giving you the full rundown here, russian used where katya knows russian shouldn't be, so they're both girls rather than queens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 05:11:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7671358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not self harm if it's just meaningless sex, or three bottles of vodka on a school night, or twelve cigarettes before you even text your friend to let her know where to meet you.</p><p>It's also not self harm if it's hiding yourself from everyone, even your best friend, and forcing awful words from your mouth that leave bitter notes on your tongue, just because you deserve the bad taste and the pain of knowing you hurt the ones you love the most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ode to bad decisions and where it begins

**Author's Note:**

> i'm english so english spellings of words are often used. please feel free to correct my lackluster knowledge of russian language and the american schooling system.
> 
> a fair amount of homophobic slurs are used, and it's only going to get worse because this is just the prologue/backstory before i wrote the rest of it, only it got so long that it deserved its own chapter. if you're easily offended or triggered by slurs then i suggest you stop reading now, or at least read with caution around any parts involving trixie's stepfather.
> 
> for the sake of the fic, both girls are the same age and live somewhere in wisconsin (because quite frankly i didn't even remember where katya lived until halfway through writing), and they're both cisgender. katya's makeup is basically no different than usual but trixie's is like...polished instagram fairy kei fantasy.
> 
> i don't own anything or anyone. don't sue me because i spent my money on drag merch and can't afford it.
> 
> and fyi, surely you know better than to completely trust katya on what certain russian phrases mean?

For seven years, they had been best friends.

The Russian transfer student with a wild fashion sense and offbeat sense of humour, and the theatre girl who everyone likened to a Barbie doll were fast friends from the start of sixth grade, when Katya had moved from her home country only to return there a year later, much to the dismay of both herself and Trixie. Typical - just when Trixie thought someone was there for her, they up and leave. It wasn't Katya's fault, of course, but after years of that same repetitive feeling, she was sick of the cycle of emotions that it brought.

 

\---

 

**barbieee1998: but ull be so far away**

**Kat.Zamo: I cannot do anything about this situation though :(**

**Kat.Zamo: I asked parents, mom and dad both said I have to go back**

**barbieee1998: not even another month?**

**Kat.Zamo: They can look after me now so they said I have none of the reason to stay**

**barbieee1998: ...**

**barbieee1998: we can still do stuff b4 u leave tho rite**

**Kat.Zamo: Definite!**

**barbieee1998: -ly**

**barbieee1998: promise me ull keep learning english while ur bk home**

**Kat.Zamo: Definite!...ly ;P**

**barbieee1998: nd promise me well stay friends**

**Kat.Zamo: Best friends.**

**Kat.Zamo: Forever!**

 

\---

 

Trixie had never had too many friends. She was popular for her doll-like features, always flawless makeup and generally positive attitude, but she'd never considered herself to have a lot of people that she could trust. However, she'd always had Katya. The two were inseparable - except for when Katya went back to Russia. Trixie, if she had more than $10 at any given moment, would've bet money that she'd developed depression in those twelve months of being away from her best friend. Seventh grade just wasn't the same without someone by her side. They spoke over AIM whenever the time difference wasn't an issue, and Trixie continued to coach her in English so that she wouldn't forget anything about her transfer year. Especially not Trixie herself.

So when the Barbie-blonde awoke to a knock on her door three days before she went back to school for eighth grade, the person she least expected it to be was her best friend, who'd mysteriously disappeared from AIM a few days prior. Her best friend who had previously sported long, wavy, light brown hair and was now rocking a choppy bottle-blonde bob along with looking a little older for her age. Trixie put it down to the makeup - not that she never wore any herself, of course, but she'd never seen Katya look more beautiful.

And for some reason, it hurt her to think that.

 

\---

 

**barbieee1998: im so not ready for school tmrw**

**Kat.Zamo: Same**

**Kat.Zamo: I literally have no idea what to wear**

**barbieee1998: u look pretty in anything so...anything**

**Kat.Zamo: Awww < 3**

**Kat.Zamo: я люблю тебя так сильно**

**barbieee1998: what does that mean**

**Kat.Zamo: It says 'thank you'!**

 

\---

 

Trixie lived alone a lot of the time. Her stepfather was hardly ever home and she'd learned to be a very responsible child. Cooking, cleaning, washing, and all other housewifely duties that she'd picked up were useful for making sure she didn't get yelled at when her parental figure returned. The two didn't exactly get on very well.

Katya had never felt more judged in her entire life when Trixie's step-dad came home. He looked her up and down multiple times, scrutinised every part of her, admittedly, very revealing outfit, and eventually settled his eyes on the tight grip she had on Trixie's hand.

She gave him a wide smile and soft eyes, hoping to reassure him that she wasn't just some girl from the street and actually someone that Trixie knew. He didn't return either.

"It's Katya," Trixie said eventually. "She's back."

"I can see that," he said gruffly. And then, turning to his step-daughter, "a word?".

They trudged to the kitchen, shutting the door behind them and leaving Katya in their hallway. Everything looked slightly different since she was last there, but the biggest difference that she noticed was that there were no family photos on the walls or furniture. Every photo in every frame had been replaced with generic decorative art rather than anything to signify that a loving, happy family lived here.

She knew better than that. She wouldn't let on. But she did.

 _"Don't want that queer shit in my household,"_ she heard through the door. _"I'm not having anyone under this roof end up a dirty little dyke, y'understand?"_

Katya understood, despite her limited English. She'd always hidden her sexuality from Trixie when she didn't really think that she needed to. Best friends should feel safe around each other, right?

 _"I'm not even gay, Chris,"_ Trixie assured. _"God. Don't be gross."_

Maybe _that_ was why she hadn't mentioned it to her. She forced a smile back onto her face for when the kitchen door eventually opened, and she didn't let the sparkle in her eyes dim when she saw her friend's slightly dejected face. Katya held her hand out for Trixie to take again, knowing it was a bold move, but she noticed how Trixie pretended not to see it and turned to her stepfather instead.

"No problem!" Trixie said randomly, flashing a fake smile and thumbs-up at Chris. "I'll go get the food once Katya leaves, don't worry."

"Good girl," he replied, seemingly through gritted teeth, like he absolutely hated to speak of his step-daughter in a positive way. Katya tugged at the back of Trixie's shirt, wanting to escape upstairs and out of this situation as soon as she possibly could. "Keep your door open when you go up. 'Cause of the, uh...the heat today."

It was raining outside, cloudy and just barely above 50 degrees, but once Chris was out of sight and Trixie tugged Katya by the hand upstairs, she'd never felt warmer.

 

\---

 

**Kat.Zamo: Are we still on for tomorrow?**

**barbieee1998: chris said im not allowed anyone round when hes not there**

**Kat.Zamo: Oh. Meet you at the smoothie shop then?**

**barbieee1998: thats cool**

 

\---

 

Barbie and Hooker. Those were their nicknames from ninth grade onwards. Trixie's was obvious; everything from her pink attire to her perfect features to her bright pink lipstick and attention-grabbing makeup just screamed 'doll'. Katya's nickname seemed to stem from her more revealing outfits that she always wore - tight cropped shirts and short skirts, most of the time - and her crimson lipstick, of which she affectionately dubbed 'whore red'.

"I swear I've never seen you before this year," some guy in their math class had said to Katya during lunch, interrupting the conversation her and Trixie were already having. "I'm Tyler, by the way. You said you were here in seventh grade...?"

"Sixth," Katya corrected. "Then I went back to Russia for seventh, been back for eighth and here to stay." Trixie smiled at her, even though her focus was on Tyler (and his focus seemed to be on her boobs). She remembered the feeling of having no best friend around, and it was nice to be indirectly reassured that she wasn't going to be feeling that again.

"Huh. Weird." He shrugged. "Anyway, Brad's having a house party when his parents are away. Just wanted to let you know that you're on the guest list. It's gonna be huge."

"When?"

"April 7th."

"Cool." Trixie quietly remained out of the conversation, completely fine with being uninvited. "Can we bring a plus-one?"

Tyler looked disheartened, somehow, like he'd had his hopes set on escorting the Russian to the party himself. "Yeah, I guess."

Her eyes flickered to Trixie on the other side of the desk. Trixie shrugged helplessly, not knowing whether she should agree. Katya thankfully hadn't worded it as 'date', and instead just 'extra', but she still felt out of whatever loop the other two were in.

"Trixie's my date, then," she said suddenly, without any stuttering or indication that referring to a girl as her date was normal for her. Before anyone could call her out on it, however, she leaned back on her chair and continued, eager to move the topic along. "I'm gonna go all out with my makeup. Full lashes, contour, lipstick. The works, girl."

"You'll look like one of those men in wigs who mouth the words to old songs. The ones that they have in the fag nightclubs," Tyler scoffed, joining in with her laughter. Not for long, though. Trixie noticed the change in her face.

"Well, I _am_ just your average, run-of-the-mill Russian bisexual transvestite hooker," she said almost defiantly, not breaking eye contact with the boy. He stiffened, then nodded with a forced smile and laugh and slipped away. Katya refused to look away until he rejoined his gaggle of guys talking at the back of the room, and then her eyes softened and she looked back at Trixie with a smile. "What a dick."

"Yeah," Trixie agreed, twirling a strand of her impossibly long hair around her finger.

"I sort of claimed you as my plus-one there. Hey, I didn't want you being left out." No response. "Are you okay?"

Trixie wasn't sure of the answer.

 

\---

 

_"You're not even my real dad."_

_"I may not be, but I sure as fuck ain't havin' no child of mine turn out a faggot."_

_Trixie's fists balled at her sides. She didn't want this conversation. She'd never wanted this conversation. She especially didn't want this conversation now, when she needed to leave for school and her best friend was probably waiting at the bottom of her street so they could walk together._

_"I'm not a...I'm not a faggot. I'm not gay."_

_"So tell me why I'm seein' all these sappy little 'I love you's and hearts and shit between you and that Russian girl on your computer?"_

_"One, stop going through my shit while I'm at school. It's personal. Two, we're girls! Girls always say they love each other! It's normal girl behaviour!" Trixie protested. "Besides, how can I be gay if I don't even like the gays? They're disgusting. They're going to Hell."_

_All practiced and polished, like the lines she'd rehearse for theatre performances. She wasn't sure how much of it was truth and what she believed, or just stuff she was saying to keep her stepfather off her back. Said man nodded with a cough, clearing his throat, and stepped out of the way of the front door._

_"Right. You eaten? Don't want you going to school on an empty stomach," he said._

_"I had cereal."_

_"Good. Well." Leaving for the morning never got any easier, and today definitely wasn't worth any more hassle. She stepped out of the door, gripping her textbooks in one arm and slamming it behind her without another word._

_Sure enough, she spotted Katya at the corner, talking to a boy that she recognised from one of her classes. No name came to mind, but Trixie knew that she knew him. Her friend was standing a little more rigidly than usual, and none of her usual odd mannerisms were showing, so Trixie slowed down to see more of the conversation develop before she reached her._

_Then the boy leaned down and kissed Katya, and she didn't stop him. She embraced it. She didn't stop him. She didn't stop him from kissing her._

_Trixie decided to find a new route to school that day, leaving Katya to show up late to her first class after waiting at the corner for twenty extra minutes._

 

_\---_

 

"You've never had sex?"

"Nope."

Katya leaned back against the lockers, absentmindedly rifling through her bag. "I find- I find it hard to believe that Miss Perfect Blonde Barbie Bimbo herself Trixie Mattel has never fucked anyone."

Only Katya knew about Trixie's fake last name. As if the Barbie nickname wasn't enough, she adamantly refused to take her stepfather's surname in any place that wasn't official or legal records. While her legal name was indeed still Trixie Firkus, she told classmates that her last name was Mattel, and it stuck and nobody knew any different. The only ones seeing her school report would be her, Katya and her stepdad (if he could be bothered), so it never affected much.

"Well, believe it, whore," she said as Katya victoriously pulled a packet of cigarettes from her bag. "I'm just not that interested."

"Don't tell me nobody's interested in _you_."

"Oh, no, guys have asked. I just don't say yes."

"It's not very exciting," Katya shrugged, and it threw Trixie for a loop despite her already knowing that Katya had slept around some. "The guy pretends to have an actual interest in you that isn't related to your pussy, you slap a bit of meat around, make some noises, and end up generally dissatisfied."

"And then you say, 'how about next Tuesday, then, Dad?'"

Katya's laugh was a beautiful thing to Trixie; she never quite laughed for longer than two seconds before it turned into a wheeze, making it apparent that she smoked. When she finally caught her breath, she forced out a reply: "no, _then_ I collect my cash and say, 'wow, Dad, where have you been since I was six?".

It set both of them off, and plenty of other students exchanged amused and bewildered looks at the two blondes cackling to themselves by the lockers. Nobody else quite got their sense of humour - Katya was well aware of Trixie's ongoing daddy issues and decided to humour her jokes rather than acting awkward around them.

Once the joke was over, and they'd both calmed down, though, Trixie came straight out with what she'd been begging to ask. "Have you ever had sex with a girl?"

Katya paused and straightened herself out, zipping her bag back up and pushing the cigarettes into her jacket pocket before gracing Trixie with an answer. "There was this one girl back in Russia. I was thirteen. Her name was Klara and she was fourteen. We messed around when I was still finding out that I liked girls."

"Oh."

Conversations about sexuality were always awkward, given Trixie's stepfather's beliefs and them being pushed onto her, but Katya was willing to be open, and Trixie was willing to be less judgmental.

After all, it was pretty ridiculous to keep up her 'I hate gays' facade when she knew deep down that she had absolutely no interest in guys.

 

\---

 

**barbieee1998: why the fuck are we still using aim in this day and age**

**Kat.Zamo: Because we still have all our chat logs here?**

**barbieee1998: yeah**

**barbieee1998: im not gonna delete any of them**

**Kat.Zamo: Me neither.**

**barbieee1998: also because my shit fucking stepdad wont let me have a phone**

**Kat.Zamo: Yeah, that too.**

 

\---

 

Katya's sixteenth birthday present to Trixie was wrapped in a little pink box with a silver tag accompanying it, reading 'from your favourite Russian hooker' and a heart. The birthday girl found it at lunch in her locker after not seeing her best friend all day due to differing classes, and she had to wonder how Katya knew the passcode to her padlock. Maybe she was just more observant than she thought.

She slid the top of the box off, holding it delicately like it might blow up in her face, and inside lay a bejeweled iPhone 5, silver with pink (presumably stick-on) rhinestones. Picking it up and holding it, knowing that it had come from a place of genuine love from her best friend, made her want to burst into tears there and then.

A square piece of card rested at the very bottom of the box, sporting Katya's wonderfully messy handwriting.

 _'Привет! AIM is so totally outdated, like. I know you're having a rough time recently so I want you to know that I'm always here for you. Come find me after last period - I'll either be at the end of the west wing or by the cafeteria dumpster selling my ass. Also, my number i_ _s_ _702-796-3600. Call me! xoxo'_

As she unlocked the phone, she noticed the background: a deliberately unattractive, triple-chinned, eyes-rolled-back selfie of Katya. She'd figure out how to change it at some point, but she absolutely wanted to keep it there.

 

\---

 

**[Message to: Katya.] hello?**

**[Message from: Katya.] Who's this?**

**[Message from: Katya.] If this is Jamie from Monday, no, I won't go to Burger King with you and no, I don't want to see how many times you can jerk it in a minute.**

**[Message to: Katya.] its trixie you dumb bitch**

**[Message from: Katya.] TRACY!**

**[Message from: Katya.] Happy birthday, you blonde virgin bimbo. I'm by the west wing, like I said. Come here.**

**[Message to: Katya.] omw**

 

\---

 

"Sophomore year already blows and we've only been back for ten days but this is just...thank you," Trixie said, tears threatening her eye makeup again as she went in for a hug. Katya's hugs often felt more like a snake trying to kill a bunny, with Trixie left struggling for breath upon breaking the embrace, but she wasn't complaining.

"I'm glad you like it. I still have a whole three sheets of fucking rhinestones left if any of them fall off," Katya laughed, leaving her arm around Trixie's shoulder as they walked out of the school. Trixie had warmed to the familiar Russian twang that took over Katya's voice when she was more relaxed. In social situations, she did a very good job of sounding authentically Midwestern, even though everybody already knew she wasn't from America in the first place, but when she was alone with Trixie she let her mask slip a little and her true accent shone through. It didn't make her harder to understand or faze Trixie at all; in fact, she found it kind of endearing.

"I absolutely adore it. You're the best person in the world," Trixie said, hoping she didn't sound too sappy or - dare she say it - too _gay_ for her own good.

"I know I am. Bow down," she agreed with a giggle. "We have to be typical teen girls now. You need all the apps. Snapchat, Instagram, Twitter, Tinder, Grindr, Scruff-"

"I know I'm not in the modern world just yet but I'm pretty sure those last two are for gay hookups."

Katya mock-gasped. "You got me there."

Trixie felt for the phone in her pocket, making sure it hadn't slipped out and gotten lost or anything. Still there. "This must've cost you so much though. You really didn't have to."

"Girl, do you know how much I make hooking?" she joked. (Or, at least, Trixie was 90% sure she was joking.) "It's fine, seriously. Now you have no excuse to not be talking to me every minute of every day."

"Except for...y'know, my stepdad."

Katya winced. That was true, and she really hadn't thought ahead when buying her friend a present of what her parental figure had specifically banned her from having. "Shit. I forgot about that. If you call me with your earphones in, I'll ramble at you and you can text me the answers."

"Uh...phone bill."

"The card in there is prepaid. $35. We'll figure out something after that."

“You spend far too much on me. Buying me-”

“Shh,” Katya cut in, fishing a cigarette and lighter from her pocket. She passed the lighter across to the hand slung on Trixie’s shoulder and propped the cigarette between her teeth. “The only thing I ask is that you stop bitching about my smoking habits.”

Trixie rolled her eyes. “Smoking is bad for you. It kills you.”

“We all die eventually,” Katya replied with an air of finality, slowing down her pace to bring the two to a halt. “Now stay still.”

She reached her lighter-holding hand out as far as she could without moving it from Trixie’s shoulder, and leaned across to bring the end of the cigarette to reach it. The sudden flicker of the flame made Trixie jump, and she felt somewhat scared being so close to an open flame despite how tiny it was. Katya, in dangerously close proximity to Trixie’s face, lit the cigarette and cut the flame, bringing her head back up and taking it from between her teeth with her free hand to exhale into the air. A steady stream of silver smoke floated into the air above their heads. Trixie always did hate the smell of smoking, but unfortunately, bad habits are hard to break.

 

\---

 

**[Message to: Katya.] katya**

**[Message to: Katya.] kaaaatyaaa**

**[Message to: Katya.] bitch**

**[Message to: Katya.] hooker**

**[Message to: Katya.] tf are you pick up or answer or something**

**[Message from: Katya.] Sorry, I was busy.**

**[Message to: Katya.] doing what?**

**[Message from: Katya.] *Who. Tyler.**

**[Message to: Katya.] that homophobic jackass in our math class?**

**[Message from: Katya.] The great rap legend Trixie Mattel drops sick new bars.**

**[Message to: Katya.] get fucked**

**[Message from: Katya.] Just did.**

**[Message from: Katya.] I’m in the park just off Kendrick Street. Meet me there? Let’s wave goodbye to sophomore year like true fucked-up cliche movie kids.**

**[Message to: Katya.] fiiiine**

 

\---

 

It was no surprise that Katya was smoking when Trixie arrived.

“Seventh,” the Russian confessed as soon as her friends got within speaking distance, knowing her habit of asking how many cigarettes she’d already had. It had become something of an obsession with Trixie, knowing that Katya was fine, but she didn't mind. If anything, it just reminded her that someone did indeed care.

"You're gonna end up with a-pack-a-day addiction before you hit seventeen," Trixie said. "It's not good. Not to mention the amount that you drink, too."

"Honey, I grew up in Russia. My mother didn't breastfeed me milk, she practically lactated vodka. Actually, thinking about that metaphor, that'd fucking...burn like a bitch. But anyway, it's normal and I'm a hardened soul who dances with death from the minute I wake up on the floor of my room with candles still burning from the night before and empty bottles next to me, to the minute I pass out in public parks with the last text to my mom being my location."

Trixie rolled her eyes and sat down on the raised brick wall next to her.

The night was pretty. It was barely 7PM, but the darkness was already beginning to set in, giving the sky a faded purple colour. The park was also pretty, with small rose gardens and floral displays surrounding benches and walkways, and little street lamps illuminating the paths with a warm and inviting glow. However, Trixie found Katya to be arguably the prettiest of all the views, in her bright red lipstick, thick mascara, and black skinny jeans and red sweater. She was staring straight ahead, cigarette between her teeth and her first two fingers poised to move it at any time, long red nails scratching at her cheek absentmindedly.

“It’s so weird that all these years have come and gone and we’re pretty much the same people,” Katya said after a period of silence. “Like, you’re still Barbie, I still look like a whore, and we’re both still messed up and weird.”

“Shows how resilient and fucking stubborn we are.”

“We even have the same hair. I’m still serving...2014 post- _Shake It Off_ Taylor Swift realness,” she said, fluffing up one side of her already-poofy bob cut with her free hand, “and you’ve still got that Rapunzel thing going on. You could be the next Lady Godiva, if you had a horse. Bring _that_ up at your next theatre meeting.”

“Listen, _nobody_ wants to see me naked.”

“You haven’t asked. Besides, the point was that her hair covered her tits and junk anyway, so it shouldn’t matter.” Another drag on the cigarette. “Do we even have anything to brag about from our first two years of high school?”

Trixie chewed on her lip in thought while Katya rummaged through her bag. There was always something in there that she needed. “Um, there was that one time you convinced Brendon that you’re actually a man in drag.” A loud snort came from Katya, and Trixie heard the clink of bottle against brick. A clear liquid occupied the space inside the glass, and she assumed it was vodka, as per Katya’s Russian heritage.

“That was a classic,” Katya replied with a smile, shifting positions and sitting cross-legged. Trixie followed suit. “What about that time- that time in the cafeteria? When I dropped ketchup on the floor and you absolutely ate shit when you stepped on it?”

“Christ, don’t remind me. That’s hardly something to brag about.”

“Okay, okay, what about the time you stood outside the gates and started charging everyone 10 cents to come in on National Barbie Day and said it was for charity? How fucking much did you make from that?”

“Enough to buy us that take-out, booze and candy binge that we had that one time my stepdick went out,” Trixie laughed, remembering the memory. “That was great. Oh! And that one time we pretended to the substitute that we were sisters, only I didn’t speak any Russian at all. There was a slight fault there.”

“It’s not that hard to learn once you get used to it.”

“You grew up in Russia, with a Russian family, speaking- guess what? Fucking _Russian_ . I think you have just a _tiny_ advantage. Only small though, like my stepdad’s dick-size small. Fuck off with your ‘it’s easy’ bull.”

Katya laughed her usual wheezy laugh, fanning her free hand as if trying to direct more air towards her mouth, and Trixie watched her, her own smile growing bigger. Eventually, Katya caught her breath and gently wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

“You never asked, you cunt! I’d totally teach you some,” she offered. “Alright, alright, we’ll start with basics. ‘Привет’ is like an informal ‘hello’. _Pree-vyet._ ”

Trixie repeated it, and Katya clapped as best she could against where she was holding the neck of the bottle.

“Okay, slightly harder: ‘До свидания’ is the best way to say bye to someone because everyone uses that. _Duh-svi-danyuh._ Try it.”

“Duh-svi-day...what?”

“Close enough. Now we're gonna try 'thank you'. This is what you'll be hearing a lot from all the guys whose dicks you'll be sucking soon enough. It's 'я люблю сухой анальный'. _Ya loo-blyu soo-hoy ah-nal-nee._ "

"Ya lah-," Trixie started, and then sighed and gave up. "That seems kind of long for just thank you."

"It's, uh, like an extended way to say it. It translates to something like...'I appreciate your service'."

"Fuck, just gimme the next one."

"'ну, мочиться на мои сиськи и называть меня Барбарой' is an exclamation. Like an extended version of 'oh my God'. I guess you could compare it to saying 'Jesus motherfucking Christ on a bike'."

Trixie shook her head. "I'm not even going to try."

"What about ‘я люблю екатерина со всем моим сердцем’?”

“Now you’re just fucking with me.”

“‘Я вниз ебать Екатерину’?”

“I don’t even know what these mean but they all sound like they have your name in them.”

Katya paused and swallowed. Caught out. Instead of hurling more unknown phrases at Trixie, though, she uncapped the bottle of vodka and raised it into the air.

“на здоровье,” she said, “и на какой бы то ни хрена тхис делает нас.”

And with a generous swig from the bottle, she leaned forward, pressing her lips to Trixie’s and mixing their lipsticks to make the same shade of cherry-rose of the blooming flowers surrounding them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i still have two more chapters to write of this, good lord.
> 
> tumblr: polarise.co.vu  
> twitter: @pxiarising


	2. telling someone that they deserve the world is a thinly veiled 'i love you'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no, i'm not dead (unfortunately) and no, i haven't forgotten about this. on the bright side i'm halfway through the last chapter, so there'll be less of a wait next time.
> 
> presumably you caught on that italics are flashbacks. if not, here it is: italics are flashbacks.

 

Junior year didn't exactly start with a bang; it started with reminders that shit was starting to get real and pleas for students to put focus on relationships aside for the sake of schoolwork. It started with four hours of homework every other day and the offer of after-hours support sessions for anyone that couldn't handle it. It started with Katya silently braiding Trixie's impossibly long hair from the desk behind while the Barbie-lookalike painted her chipped nails pink behind her pencil case, out of view of the teacher.

Still best friends, the duo weren't the most popular, but still quite frequently the talk of the school. Well, of their year, anyway. People before knew their names but not faces, or faces but not names, but that year they'd had more people than they realised call them over by name or invite them out. They did things together, or no deal. They remained inseparable, the two blonde bitches who everyone thought were dating.

They weren't, of course. Just great friends.

 

\---

 

_Trixie had never kissed anyone before. Katya, a polar opposite, had done much more than kissing quite frequently. A few hours prior to their park meeting, even. So Trixie remained rigid and still whilst Katya's lips were pressed against hers, both pairs of eyes closed for the brief five seconds that it lasted._

_Eye contact was out of the question once they broke apart. Katya laughed and took another swig of vodka. "The best part is that it doesn't even_ mean _anything. You're not gay and I'm currently fucking around with guys and if anything, it just brings us closer together."_

_"Asking or, like, fucking_ hinting _wouldn't have hurt," Trixie hissed, not pleased at her own bitter tone but still trying to recover. She prodded at her lower lip with her finger and pulled it back to examine the damage to her lipstick; just a bubblegum pink and scarlet mess._

_"I'm being spontaneous and...fun. And wacky," Katya replied. She couldn't have cared less - after all, behaviour like that was never really unusual for her. Instead, she rolled her tongue over her lips and made a loud smacking noise. "You taste- your lipstick tastes like...candy. What is that?"_

_"Cotton candy," Trixie said simply. "Cotton candy lip balm on top."_

_"I might have to borrow that from you sometime." Carrying on as usual was Katya's thing, so she pulled her phone from her pocket and examined her makeup in the camera. It was a typical picture of her personality: neck of a bottle and cigarette between fingers in one hand, and makeup-checking in the camera in the other. Trixie didn't want to watch her like she might have before. She didn't want to see her any more. She didn't want the surprise of whatever Katya was planning next._

_"I'm going home," she said suddenly, sliding off the wall. Katya turned her attention from the phone to give her a confused look._

_"You just got here."_

_"And now I'm just going home, like I said."_

_"Trixie, what's-"_

_"Nothing. Nothing's wrong, since I know that's what you're going to ask." She shuffled on the spot, adjusting her jacket and then shrugged. "See you tomorrow, I guess."_

_"I'll call you later," Katya offered with her attention turned fully to her friend. Trixie just shrugged again and started to follow the path, away from Katya and the roses and the streetlights and the night and the kiss._

_She didn't think of Katya on the way home. She thought of how far her house was, how far school was, whether she could make it into the city and back without her stepfather getting suspicious, whether she had enough change on her to buy some more bubblegum from the grocery store. The roads she walked had never felt more unfamiliar and her fluffy-heeled feet had never felt more heavy. She approached her front door with keys in hand, the night finally surrounding her, and let herself in to what she already anticipated to be just the icing on top of the cake of shitty ideas._

_"Where the fuck have you been, Trixie?" were the first words that left her stepfather's mouth upon her entering. The next were "look at me!" and then a rather violent yank of her head upwards from its solemn position._

_The rest was mostly non-verbal. A slap, a finger pointed up the stairs, and "go and wash that whore's lipstick off of your fucking face. I'm not having you hang around with her any more. Enough is enough"._

 

\---

 

"He won't even be in."

"Katya, you know he doesn't want you in the house. Especially when he's not there. He hates you, boo. Besides, your house is fine. This is fine. I don't mind coming over here."

Nobody spoke of the event that had caused that in the first place. It was a subject they had both tiptoed around since the end of tenth grade, for reasons that neither of them wanted to publicly admit to. Katya had never denied being bisexual to Trixie despite her slight homophobic influences, but the most surprising part was that Trixie never let that stop them from being close. Katya had thought that it might have put a barrier, a wall between them, and all hugs or any touching would be off-limits, but it instead just proved to her that the instincts she'd grown up with weren't always right. That wouldn't stop her from listening to the instincts that told her not to confess her crush on Trixie, though, because she knew deep down that it would take their friendship backwards some steps rather than forwards.

Trixie, on the other hand, had never had a typical interest in guys. She'd 'dated' a couple in elementary school, but it never really went further than getting ice cream after the last bell or quick hugs at lockers. For that reason, she was never quite sure what her conservative stepfather wanted from her; was coming home and having loud unprotected sex with multiple boys really that much better than a quick kiss on the cheek from a female friend? Was hanging around late at night with unfamiliar older guys preferable to having a best female friend that stayed over sometimes? Sometimes she thought the former would always win out, considering Chris' hatred for Katya and anyone else who didn't happen to be completely heterosexual. If she thought about it this way, him hating his own stepdaughter made sense, but she knew it was ridiculous because he had no idea that she didn't really like guys.

She didn't know what, or who, she liked. She liked people who weren't afraid to be different and people with the same sense of humour as herself. She liked people who were sassy and lighthearted and fun to be around, but she also liked people who she could sit down and have a serious talk with if needed. She liked people who held her hand like it was their last remaining life source, and people who smiled at her when she spoke, and people who played with her hair, and most of all, she liked people who told her that she was worth more than what she thought and made her feel loved.

With all this being at the forefront of her mind whenever she thought about her own sexuality, it was no surprise when she found herself falling asleep with her back to Katya as the Russian twisted her long hair into cute little braids, separating all these little strands into different sections with delicate clawed fingers that occasionally drifted across her back-

"Your hair is gorgeous," Katya said suddenly, making Trixie flinch. "I kinda wish I could've grown mine out this long but it looked trashier than most of my fashion choices. I prefer this little manageable bob anyway."

"Mhm."

"I'm always so surprised at how you stop all this from turning into a literal bird's nest." She threaded the extra loose strands through her fingers, pulling them away from Trixie and then letting them fall against her back again. "It's always so fucking silky and soft! Like, what? How do you do it?"

No response from Trixie.

"I mean, it probably won't mean much to me because I just use standard off-brand shampoo and conditioner, but this- this is like fucking reels of gold. So Barbie-chic. I love it. I love you-...r style and makeup and stuff. I wish I could pull it off."

Again, no response aside from the calmest breathing Katya had ever heard from her.

"You're so...pretty. Seriously, even when you have minimal makeup on, you look good. I look like a forty-year-old man without it. It's unfair. You need to give me some of your good looks. How much do I have to pay you? I'll pay it. My sugar daddies will help."

Silence. Katya sighed and continued to braid the presumably-sleeping Trixie's hair. "I'm so glad we're still friends. I just-...I don't know, I think you're really cute. Really...cute and lovely and you make me really happy. Even when you're fucking falling asleep halfway through your new 'do, which is a _total_ bitch move, but whatever. You're lovely and I love you and- and this is starting to sound gay so I'll shut up."

Trixie, with her eyes open and mouth shut the whole time, shifted forwards. Far forwards, further away from Katya and where she was sitting cross-legged behind her, and then she lay back. Her hair wasn't finished and she'd have some wavy and some straight parts tomorrow, but she didn't care. She rested her head in Katya's lap and closed her eyes while the other muttered something to herself in Russian.

"гребаный дерьмо. ебут. ебут, ебут, ебут. Heya, Trix, thought you were already asleep! Funny, that. How I think people are sleeping and say dumb shit. I hope it doesn't become as habitual as my smoking! Haha. ебут."

In response, Trixie slowly reached her hand up to meet Katya's, lacing their fingers together as she relaxed into Katya's lap and the bed. "Mm. Sleep. Love you." 

Katya froze. There was no way on God's earth that she could sleep after hearing that. It seemed like a change of character for Trixie, but then again, she'd never not been affectionate, and she'd always had the habit of leaving things without much explanation, whereas Katya tended to talk herself deeper and deeper into a hole. For once, she decided that she should listen to Trixie and just stop worrying for a while and relax with sleep. Not with smoking, or drinking, or sex. Just with sleep, in the comfort of her own home, her own bed, and with her best friend snoring across her legs.

 

\---

 

_It would be a lie to say Trixie had no other friends. She was friendly with most of the other people in her theatre class, but she didn't trust any of them to the extent that she trusted Katya. Unfortunately, this left her in an awkward situation when she really needed to get out feelings and pent-up emotions about Katya, and Katya was the only one she felt she could tell those things to._

_She turned to Max in those times, an impossibly tall guy with grey hair and a passion for old musicals in her theatre group. She'd been in numerous productions with him and since they seemed to be the 'quirkiest' of the group, they often lagged behind together and talked about whatever was on their respective minds. Max was very warm and friendly, a good listener and advice-giver, and Trixie considered herself to return the favour. Unbeknownst to her when she initially made friends with him at the start of eleventh grade, he took more of an interest in guys than she did, and in turn she preferred girls more than he did._

_"You look a little bummed-out. Are you feeling okay?" he had asked once others had started clearing out of rehearsals. Trixie was still sitting on the edge of the stage, staring down at her locked phone with unfocused eyes. "Trixie?"_

_"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," she mumbled, stuffing her phone back into her pocket._

_"That's the first sign that you're absolutely not." Slender legs moved to hang over the edge alongside hers, and Max sat by her side. Close, but not too close. "Talk to me, kitten. What's eating you?"_

_"It's...fucking Katya. I'm so...confused. I don't know. I think that's what I'm feeling."_

_"Oh, dear. Is she okay? Has she done something?"_

_"It's more like...what she hasn't done, but implied or said or- I don't fucking know. She hasn't replied to my last few texts and she's, like, avoiding me in class. It's annoying but I don't even know what's up with her. It's not like she'll tell me." When Max didn't reply, Trixie continued, allowing herself to vent to him. "And...like, we randomly kissed in the park the other day- well, it was more like she kissed me, but it was weird and she wasn't even drunk or high. I kind of wish she was so that at least it's excusable, but she just straight-up kissed me without warning and I don't know what it means or what to do about it."_

_"I think it's pretty obvious what it means," Max said. Trixie wasn't looking at his face, but she could sense the warmth and smile in his voice. "But if you don't like her like that, things could become messy."_

_"It's not that I don't, but- ugh, fuck. Fuck it. I'm gay. I like girls. I think I'm a lesbian." It was a cathartic moment for the blonde, and she felt a supportive arm wrap around her shoulder. She'd never even been able to admit that to herself internally, let alone verbally, and let alone to anybody else. "And it seems weird because...slightly homophobic tendencies-" She gestured vaguely_ ar _ound herself, "-but I don't think that gay people are bad or anything because I'm also gay. My stepdad is just shit and I could never tell him and he never even liked me having female friends round with my door shut. I have no idea if Katya likes me or like-likes me but I couldn't do anything about it anyway- and I think I like her back because she's cute and funny and she makes me laugh and makes me feel valued- and I hate that I'm always hiding and I don't want to hurt Katya but I can't keep ignoring everything and pretending that it's all fucking fine and it's- it- it-"_

_"Hey, hey, hey, darling, slow down. I'm listening but please don't get yourself so worked up," Max said reassuringly, gently rubbing her shoulder._

_"I don't have much else to say."_

_"Then I'll try. I'm extremely proud of you for being brave enough to admit to your own sexuality, alright? Immensely proud. It's a hard thing to do and as someone who's had to do it multiple times, I can tell you that it never gets easier. But your situation is...particularly bad, I know. You're stronger than you think, you know. Have you tried confronting Katya about her kissing you?"_

_"Like I said, she keeps avoiding me. I don't even think she'd want to talk about it."_

_"If it's too difficult to say it face-to-face, maybe you should text her."_

_"She's ignoring me."_

_"I'm sure she wouldn't ignore you pouring your absolute heart and soul into a wonderfully-written message for her."_

_"I wouldn't-...know how to write that."_

_"I'll help you, if you want me to."_

_"I don't think it'll work. I still have to face her at some point and talk things through, so, like...why not now?" Pause. "I just realised that I talked myself into speaking to her."_

_"That's the spirit. We're going to sort this ridiculous situation out and I'm going to help and it's going to be just fine, no matter what way your relationship with Katya goes."_

_For the first time that afternoon, Trixie lifted her gaze from the floor to look at Max, who offered an encouraging smile. She'd never felt closer to anyone who wasn't Katya, and it was a relief to know she had someone else she could talk to. She was thankful that Max wouldn't judge her for her sexuality - that'd be a little hypocritical - and she knew that he was trustworthy enough that he wouldn't spread word around the school._

_"Never really thought I'd end up with a gay best friend, not after my upbringing," she joked with a sniff, resting her head against Max's upper arm. "Never really thought I'd end up gay either, though."_

_"You always had a gay best friend," Max corrected. "When she moved here from Russia in sixth grade, I believe. You just didn't know it yet."_

 

\---

 

Katya had ways to get her own way. Those ways were normally employed in order to convince Trixie to do something that she only mildly disagreed with in the first place, but neither party minded.

"My parents don't mind if you stay another night, honestly. They love you! They always have!" Katya insisted, tidying up the sheets on her bed whilst Trixie wiped off excess makeup from the day before.

She really didn't mean to fall asleep as suddenly as she did when Katya was plaiting her hair, and as a result she had random sections of wavy hair from it being twisted. It would look cute with a bit of brushing, but she was 90% sure that Katya had never owned a hairbrush in her life. Her hair was naturally untamed and wild, every single day.

Trixie had woken up first, but feigned sleep so as not to disturb Katya. Their hands were still linked, which actually impressed Trixie considering how much they'd moved in the night. She woke up with her head on Katya's stomach and her body pretty much straight, aside from her hand at her side, whereas Katya was sprawled like a starfish like she'd passed out there after drinking. One leg off the edge of her bed, one hand above her head and the other holding Trixie's, and mouth completely agape in a loud snore. Eventually she broke their link to tidy up the room before Katya woke up properly, with the biggest of hopes that Katya wouldn't remember the night before.

"Chris will kill me," Trixie said, as if it was obvious. It was, partially, but Katya noted that she would've had to convince him to let her stay over somewhere in the first place.

"Where did you tell him you were last night, then?"

"Max's. He trusts me more to stay at the house of a dude he's never met before than my friend's."

"Max," Katya repeated, chewing on her bottom lip in thought. "Max...theatre?"

"Tall, thin, grey hair."

"Gotcha. He's pretty nice - or, at least, that's what I gathered from the half a conversation that I've had with him."

"He is," Trixie agreed. "Chris doesn't know that he's gay, thankfully."

"So tell him you're staying another night at Max's for...I don't know, theatre rehearsals or something. Say you have a big scene together that you need to go over," Katya said. Already lying on her stomach on the bed, she rolled onto her back and hung her head backwards over the edge of the bed to watch Trixie removing makeup at her desk. "Pleaaaase. It'll be fun, I promise."

Reluctantly, Trixie picked up her phone and typed out two very different yet equally as important texts. She still never believed that her stepfather had taken her 'I saved up and bought it' story regarding her new phone as truth, but he was fine with it as long as she paid for it herself and he could check on her messages. To avoid further confrontation about Katya, she made doubly sure to screenshot every section of their conversations before wiping them from her messages, knowing that her not exactly technologically-inclined stepdad wouldn't check photos and would only scan messages. He probably didn't even know that it had a camera.

 

**[Message to: Chris.] staying with max again bc we have a big scene coming up, wont be home until late tomorrow**

**[Message to: Max.] so can you do me a big favour and pretend im at yours if literally anybody asks?? im at katyas and stepdad is on my case abt staying over in places. i told him i was with you last night but i need to extend that to tonight as well pls pls pls will repay with food or something**

 

By the time she'd finished her message to Max, her stepfather had replied:

 

**[Message from: Chris.] Ok no problem**

 

"Is it done? Are we safe?" Katya asked to break the silence filling the room.

"Not just yet," Trixie replied, setting the phone on the desk. "Waiting on Max, but I think it should be fine."

With that, Katya rolled back over and slid off the bed in one swift move, and then placed both hands on Trixie's shoulders and looked her dead in the eyes.

"We're going to have so. Much. Fucking. Fun," she said, adopting far too serious a tone for the subject matter. "We can dance, we can sing, we can do each other's makeup, we can try on clothes, we can bitch about how awful senior year is so far, we can bake, and I can smoke out of the window while you yell at me for it. It's perfect. A perfect opportunity."

Before Trixie could reply with anything more than a wide grin, her phone buzzed, making a loud rumbling noise against the wooden surface.

 

**[Message from: Max.] on it, no repayment required. enjoy your night.**

 

"...So what first?"

 

\---

 

_Changing rooms were high on the list of 'things universally hated by high school girls', and although Trixie didn't mind showing some skin with her clothes, changing around others made her nervous. She was just a tiny bit chubbier than some of the other slim, waif girls that took dance class with her, she felt, but oh well. She just normally stuck to her and Katya's little corner, out of sight and out of mind._

_"So I just said, 'girl, please, the only audition you're gonna get a callback for is for a fucking_ Gorillas In The Mist _remake'," Katya said, finishing her sentence with a wheezing laugh. Trixie grinned and giggled with her, seizing the opportunity to remove her skirt and change into dance shorts as quickly as possible without anyone seeing._

_"You're fucking savage. I love it," Trixie commented, and Katya flashed her an obviously forced wide smile, baring her perfect white teeth, to which Trixie covered her eyes as if being blinded. The Russian peeled her red sweater off and over her head, and something hit Trixie that she felt awful for not noticing before; her body. Visible ribs, ridged and frail-looking poked underneath paper-thin skin and bumps of spinal bone were dotted down the middle of her back. "Jesus, Kat, you're like...shrinking. Shrinking or aging, one of the two. Is that from the smoking?"_

_"Smoking cuts your appetite," she replied as if to brush it off, but Trixie noticed her picking up the pace to put her tank top on._

_"That's...not just from smoking. Come on. And here I was thinking your cheekbone contouring was just slaying all these years."_

_"I repeat, smoking cuts your appetite. Sometimes I just forget to have food. No big deal."_

_"Uh, yes, that is a big deal. You kind of need food to live."_

_"I'm perfectly fine, seriously! I'm still all happy. And fun. And flexible," she insisted, flashing another smile after adjusting her shirt and then reaching for Trixie's hand, pulling it up into an underarm turn as per their dance routine before slowly sliding down into splits that resulted in one of her legs between Trixie's feet. "See? Totally cool."_

_Trixie held onto her hand to pull her up as others started to leave the locker rooms. "I feel like I'm dancing with death herself."_

_"Then you'll finally get a taste of what it's like to be me, Katya, a celebrity hooker and 27 Club member in the making," she replied, somewhat jokingly and with her Russian accent slipping through, before squeezing Trixie's hand and taking vaguely salsa-esque steps out of the rooms without any elaboration on what she meant._

 

\---

 

**[9:51 PM]** _27 club - Google Search (www.google.com)_

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**[9:55 PM]** _senior year doing drugs - Google Search (www.google.com)_

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**[9:59 PM]** _forced rehab - Google Search (www.google.com)_

**[9:59 PM]** _how to delete browsing history - Google Search (www.google.com)_

 

\---

 

The early hours of the morning were beginning to roll in, and Trixie felt like she should've kept a checklist of what her and Katya were doing during their one and only chance to spend two nights together. After a late-night grocery store visit, multiple smoke alarm triggers and Katya burning her hand on the tray, the two had baked a double chocolate fudge cake and devoured it all in under an hour. As Katya put it, "it's a metaphor for the fragility of life; you work hard and go places and burn yourself but in the end you still don't end up as moist as everyone would like".

"The thought of eating any more cake makes me want to shoot myself," Trixie mumbled, brushing crumbs from the corners of her lips.

"Oh my god, same. I feel like I'm gonna burst. Like a _zit._ You know all that inflation and food stuffing fetish art you see on weird sites?"

"No...?"

"I should be a model for one of those whilst someone draws me. Ooh! Or even better: I become a feedee for those guys that like to fatten women up."

"What kind of _sites_ have _you_ been looking at?"

A casual shrug. "Ones that have inflation and food stuffing fetish art on, clearly."

A brief moment of silence passed between the two girls, before Trixie just shook her head as Katya stuck her tongue out at her.

"You're crazy. Literally insane. I'm not even kidding," Trixie laughed. She pocketed her phone and shifted to type something in on the laptop. "So-"

"You like your girls insaaane," Katya sang, and Trixie quickly turned her head to look at her in shock.

"The fuck? That was in-tune. I didn't know you could sing."

"Nobody does, until they hear me," Katya said fairly, "because I'm Katya Zamolodchikova, the elusive chanteuse. Senior cheerleader and general fucktard by day, Madonna's inbred foreign cousin by night."

"What about that period of unreality between 4 and 6AM where you constantly text me about geese, or the smell of old dusty books or how chewing erasers and chewing gum doesn't taste the same despite them both being rubber?"

"I think I can probably classify that under 'general fucktard'."

"That, and everything else you do."

Instead of laughing, Katya made a happy screeching sounding noise and fanned her hands; Trixie was just used to her weird behaviour patterns and found them...actually pretty cute. "You fucking bitch," Katya said eventually. "Put some music on and I'll fight- I mean, we'll dance."

 

\---

 

**[Message from: Max.] trix. just a heads-up.**

**[Message from: Max.] your dad/stepdad/person looking after you came round to mine asking for you. i told him you were already asleep upstairs and that i didn't want to wake you.**

**[Message from: Max.] i'm not sure if he believed me but he left.**

**[Message from: Max.] trixie. now would be a good time to pick up. i know you're probably busy and i don't want to sound rude but if you're in any danger at all, please please please phone and let me know and i'll come and help.**

**[Message from: Max.] trixie?**

 

\---

 

All girls dance around at sleepovers. All girls love to blast music from the charts and maniacally jump around without much rhythm to their movements, and that's exactly what Trixie and Katya did for all of four songs, until one particular one popped up on shuffle.

Katya froze, jarring smile still stretched onto her face like she hadn't quite realised what was going on. Trixie was all for more dancing until she noticed her friend's lack of movement and expression.

"This- ...this was playing the night I left. Back at the end of sixth grade. It was playing on the drive to the airport. It was," Katya said, a slight tremble in her voice. She felt like she was trying to prove something to Trixie, even though she'd never heard about it before. "It was, I- and now I can't listen to it without thinking about how much I missed you, how much I fucking missed you."

The Barbie slowly took a step towards her. "I missed you too, Kat. But neither of us are going anywhere now, alright?"

"I'm sorry, it-" And then Katya is mopping at her eye with the end of her sleeve, in a completely unexpected turn from the atmosphere. "You know when you just can't, like, un-associate things from other things? Yeah. This is that. This is that thing."

"Well, then, get rid of that memory. Make a new one in place of it." Trixie gently took Katya's hand into her own, like she'd done the night before, and Katya returned the gesture with her other hand. "Dance with me."

 

\---

 

_On the rare occasion where Trixie and Chris were on good terms and he didn't mind her staying out late, she would take advantage of the opportunity and accept Katya's offer of a little late-night road trip around town. They weren't on the best of terms - an awkward week of forced conversation and avoidance of mentioning their park night wasn't the most fun thing ever -  but they were inseparable even at their worst, so neither would turn down spending more time together. She already had her driver's licence, and Trixie trusted her enough to relax in the passenger seat. Between subjects of conversation and laughter though, Katya still returned to the comfort of a_ _cigarette, letting it crackle as she rested her arm on the open window frame of her parents' car and puffing smoke out of the window._

_"Smoking is bad," Trixie reminded her, for what must have been the tenth time that week. "It kills you. It's gross and it literally kills you."_

_"Hashtag goals," Katya replied sarcastically, taking another drag while they waited at a stop light._

_"I'm serious." A pause. "I care about you too much to let you develop smoker's cough at seventeen. Or, like, die from it somehow. Are you listening? It kills you."_

_"Ironically enough, it makes me feel better. More alive. So I guess I'm an anomaly in those PSA smoking statistics. I appreciate the thought, though, but I'm not going anywhere any time soon, don't you worry. You're stuck with me for the next however many years. How fun for you."_

_"I'll take it," Trixie said, inhaling and leaning back in the seat, "over you dying before you see eighteen. You know I would. There's not a lot I wouldn't do for you, you...stupid fucking shit-ass whored-out Russian."_

_"Ooh, girl, you know how to hit where it hurts," Katya deadpanned. Although she was focused on the road, she was smiling at Trixie's lame faux-insult._

_"You deserve a slap and maybe a little cunt punt wouldn't go amiss but you also fucking deserve the world, goddammit. How do you do that? How do you make me want to strangle you and hug you at the same time? I fucking hate you."_

_"It's my natural Siberian charm," she said, even though they both knew she'd never been anywhere near Siberia in her life. "It's most noticeable in my scent: that wonderful mix of sweat and Raisin Bran. I call it 'Eau de Slut'."_

_"Stop right there -_ now _I just want to strangle you. I've changed my mind."_

_The radio signal flickered, and then tuned itself back in, except at a slightly raised volume compared to before. Crackled mumbles from the host, and then music. Katya stiffened, and then leaned across to turn it up a little. She had to let go of her feelings towards this song at some point._

_"...Did you mean that?" Katya asked suddenly, not taking her eyes from the road._

_"What, the strangling thing?"_

_"No, the bit before. About deserving the world."_

_"Of course I did, you idiot."_

_Silence. Prolonged awkward silence, only filled by the music from the radio. "Why did you leave when I kissed_ _you?"_

_"Because it was sudden and it made me uncomfortable and I literally had no idea how to respond." There was no point beating around the bush, Trixie decided. She didn't miss a beat in her reply, telling Katya just how it was. "Look. You know me, and you know my stepdad. I don't hate gay people. I'm just making that clear._ He _does, and no matter how much he tries to force that onto me, it's just not going to change my opinions."_

_"...I'm sorry. I...didn't mean to make it like that and-"_

_"If you like me, you can just say. It won't make things weird and I'm not gonna judge you. We can just forget about it but at least you get the knowledge that- ...you know that I know, if that makes sense."_

_"Fine," Katya said simply, also deciding not to sugar-coat things. "I do like you. You're pretty and sweet and lovely and you have the best sense of humour and I don't think I'm going to find anyone like you for a long, long, loooong time, unless I'm still alive when they figure out human cloning. Then I'm sticking around to piss your clones off. But seriously. You're just...you. And I love that. You're great and your face is great and your personality is great." A deep breath. "I need some Tumblr-esque cliche finisher, like 'you smell like home' or something."_

_"Stick with that, so you get the satisfaction of indirectly telling me that I smell like piss and vodka."_

_Katya grinned, taking her eyes off the road briefly to look across at Trixie. She returned the warm smile. "Even better."_

 

\---

 

All girls dance around at sleepovers, but not all girls dance _with_ each other at sleepovers, bodies pressed against one another with Katya's chin resting atop the shorter Trixie's head while they held each other close and shuffled in steps to the music.

It was then that it came back to Trixie; she liked different people and funny people and sassy, lighthearted, fun people and caring people. She liked affectionate people, listening people, touchy people, and people who made her think for a split second that she deserved the world. She liked being loved. She liked Katya. She liked Katya loving her and she liked to love Katya.

Her scent was familiar, her touch even more so. Trixie could've stayed idly moving back and forth in their dancing position all night, but it was disrupted by Katya speaking.

"We're the gayest non-gay non-couple ever to gay."

Trixie laughed quietly against Katya's shirt. "I mean...I wouldn't mind if that changed."

"Don't fuck around with words. I've had a drink."

"Let's be gay, then."

The most abrupt, least homophobic-sounding thing Trixie had ever said to Katya also happened to be the one that caught the latter most off-guard. She stopped dancing, leaving Trixie to take another step and then falter as she missed Katya's movements.

"Since when have you had any interest in girls?"

"Since forever. You just never knew." Katya had moved to look at Trixie at arm's length, with a slightly bewildered look on her face. "Like how nobody knows you can sing until you do. Nobody knows I'm gay until I kiss a girl."

"Everyone thinks you're gay, though. Damn. All this time I could've gone without worrying that you were going to launch homophobic shit at me for confessing celeb crushes."

"I wouldn't do that anyway, you moron."

Silence. "Does your dad- stepdad know?"

 "Absolutely not."

"Yeah, that was a stupid question." More silence that was somewhere between awkward and liberating. "Well, then, shit, let's be gay."

"Officially?"

"Officially. Girlfriend. Girlfriends. I'm gonna write _all_ about this in my diary. Total GFs now. Totally."

Trixie giggled, moving back in closer to Katya for a hug. It had only taken all of eight years for Katya to admit it and for Trixie to come to terms with it, but in that moment, neither of them would have had anything any other way.

"...You have a diary?"

"It's an old leather-bound journal from my grandma, with a hammer and sickle on the front."

"God. Never change."

 

\---

 

Dates in the modern age were always difficult for two broke high school students - coffee shops were too cliche, restaurants were too fancy, clubs were off-limits, and anything else didn't seem like a worthwhile use of their time or money. You just didn't go to the arcade any more, and while they still would, it didn't seem like the best idea for a proper first date.

"Let's just go to the mall," Katya shrugged, tongue sticking out from one side of her mouth as she focused on precisely painting her toenails.

"Really? You're saying that an arcade is a shitty first date idea and yet you wanna just live it up at the place where we can literally go every single day?"

"Yes. It's not about where you go, it's who you're with." Katya's little nugget of Pinterest-quote wisdom caught Trixie off-guard, and she couldn't really argue with that. She was right - they could make the best of any situation, and it would be fun as long as they were together.

So they ended up at the local mall on one boring, regular Saturday, just two gal pals holding hands whilst they window-shopped. Most people wouldn't question why they were hand-in-hand, as it had become a normal girly thing to do with friends, and they made sure not to go over the top with PDA, just in case any of the conservative Midwestern folk around them had something to say about it.  She didn't even really pay much attention to those around her when it was just her and Katya, but in any case Trixie was positive she recognised the sweeping quiff of silver hair on the guy heading in their direction, and as Katya slowed to admire something in a display (therefore dragging Trixie along due to linked hands), she got a slightly better look as the figure turned towards them with a friendly smile.

 "Someone looks happy," Max said. He glanced down at their linked hands and his smile widened just that little bit more, already guessing what was going on. "Or should that be some _people?"_

"I'd be a lot happier if she wouldn't stop complaining about my wanting to get coffee while she stares at the nineteenth pair of identical hooker heels," Trixie joked. She tugged on her girlfriend's hand to introduce her properly. "Katya, this is Max, the guy from theatre." And then, turning to Max, "Max, Katya."

"Hey," Max smiled.

Still chewing on her gum, Katya broke away from Trixie's hand and casually draped her arm around Max's waist - Trixie assumed she would've tried for the shoulder had Max not been six foot five - and tugged him closer as if they'd been friends for a long time. He gave them a confused look, first at Katya and then Trixie, and then put his arm around Katya's shoulders to play along in turn.

"He's mine now," Katya said simply, flicking her fringe from her eyes with a tilt of her head.

"He's also gay," Trixie pointed out. Katya looked up at Max, who gave her a warm smile, and rolled her eyes back into her head with a sigh.

"Goddammit," she hissed. "Why are all the cute-slash-hot ones gay?"

"I mean, in my case I'm not really complaining," Trixie said smoothly, to which Max laughed and Katya gave her a low whistle. While it had occurred to both girls that they hadn't told anyone they were dating, neither of them wanted to make active attempts at changing that and figured it'd just flow into conversation if needed. After all, they were just one big-mouthed person away from Trixie's stepdad finding out, which would result in all-around devastation.

Max looked between the two of them as he spoke. "So are you two...?" He made a shaky flattened-hand gesture which then changed to a thumbs-up, presumably to ask if they were just 'okay' or whether they were on good terms. Both nodded, Katya more casually and Trixie like an eager child accepting an offer of candy.

"Oh, I'm so glad it's all worked out for you. You two make such a cute couple already and I've only been with you for the past two minutes," he said brightly, and then, turning to Trixie: "does your stepdad know?"

" _God,_ no. I wouldn't be here, existing, _alive_ right now if he did." She said it in her usual deadpan-humour kind of way, but she was only half-joking. She's not sure what the repercussions of coming out to Chris would be but she was sure they'd involve her having to get out of the house as quickly as possible. "It's a little bit of a secret right now. Everyone thought we were dating anyway, but...meh. Just down-low."

"Wish _I_ was," Katya mumbled, still at Max's side. He concealed a laugh in the form of clearing his throat and coughing with a knowing smile whilst Trixie, having not heard the comment, frowned in confusion. "We're just hanging around everywhere like typical youths today. Window-shopping because we're too broke to fuckin' afford even Hershey's bars, and probably grabbing a coffee later."

"Sounds adorable," Max nodded, discreetly prying Katya's arm from around him. She took the hint and slunk back to beside Trixie, linking their arms together. "I won't keep you. I'm just grabbing some stuff for my mom, so my day isn't nearly as exciting as yours anyway."

Trixie eyed the roll of gift wrap sticking out from the top of the bag. "Her birthday?"

"Yeah. Is it obvious?" he said, catching her eye and glancing down at it.

"God, you guys are so _normal._ Like _mundane_ normal. Do you ever talk about drugs or smoking or sex or parties or anything?" Katya cut in, eliciting bemused smiles from the other two. "I thought all the theatre kids had reps as big party animals who don't cut corners or anything. Everything is just _constantly_ OTT. Where's _that_ at?"

"We have to keep a low profile in the day so we don't give away our secrets," Max replied. "So now, if you'll excuse me, I have a wild rave- I mean, _mundane and normal present shopping_ to do. Have fun on your date. See you Monday, Trix."

 The group split with an exchange of polite waves, and Trixie had to tug Katya's head forward to stop her from staring after him as he left.

"He calls you Trix."

"And?"

"He totally likes you."

"He's _gay._ And he knew that I liked you before even I did, so there's even less a chance of that happening. Chill."

"Hm. Still." Katya threaded her arm around Trixie's tiny waist, catching her by surprise as she tugged her closer while they walked with synced steps. "Hey, it's only one. When we've finished taunting ourselves with what we can't afford and bought cheap shitty coffee, we should head back to someone's. Either of ours."

"I think Chris is out today. He'll probably be back late," Trixie offered. "We can head back to mine...?"

"Deal," Katya agreed, leaning down to give her girlfriend a little peck on the cheek as they walked. Short, sweet, and nobody saw it, except for the passing girl with the black ponytail who smiled slyly as they crossed paths.

 

\---

 

It was all going fine, until there was a rev of an engine in the driveway of Trixie's house. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that the two were somewhat distracted, and had failed to notice the quick passing of time; Trixie, having never kissed anyone, had offhandedly asked Katya how it worked. In turn, her girlfriend had offered a demonstration. It wasn't what she expected nor particularly wanted for an actual answer, but she sure as hell wasn't going to turn it down.

Trixie Mattel was a good Christian girl, who studied and stayed friends with everyone and never kissed girls. Trixie was a heterosexual girl who would never do anything out of spite and who would always remember to save herself for marriage. Trixie was also a girl who had just committed more sins in three hours than in eighteen full years of life.

Katya reeled back from her position above Trixie, craning her neck to try and peer out of the window from her spot on the bed.

"Fuck. What's the time?"

"I don't-" Trixie eyed the clock on her wall and her blood ran cold. "Nine."

"Chris is back."

Both girls moved frantically to the window, partially dressed and completely stressed, and both mentally assessed how bad this situation could possibly be but how they could potentially avoid it. Trixie had no garage roof at the front to climb onto, nor any trees to fall _into._ It was death by Chris or death by concrete for Katya, and she was certain she would take the second over anything else.

"If I give you my keys, I'll distract Chris and you need to get the fuck out of the front door."

"Done. Get him into the kitchen and I'll make a run for it."

The ominous sound of the door unlocking meant that they had to move quickly. Trixie yanked on her sweater and skirt, neglecting to pull her tights on nor zip the skirt up since it was covered anyway. Katya had a slightly easier time; still in her shirt, she tugged her skirt on and threw on her long coat over it, hoping it would cover the messiness of her outfit. It wouldn't matter for now - she could fix it while she walked home - but in that moment she ideally just needed to get out.

"Trixie?" came the gruff voice from downstairs. "You home?"

"Yeah," Trixie called, and silently ushered Katya out onto the landing. She peered from the stairwell as Chris made his way into the kitchen (she'd never been more thankful for his bad habit of forgetting to lock the doors after coming in), and then the two crept down the stairs, keeping their footsteps together so as just to sound like one person. They nodded at each other once they reached the ground floor, silently agreeing on something neither were sure of, and Trixie headed into the kitchen whilst Katya tiptoed out of the door.

"Was work okay?" Trixie asked, trying to make nonchalant conversation in the doorway.

"'Bout the same as usual. Same bullshit as always," Chris replied, shaking his head and sighing. Trixie honestly couldn't care less about his work - she barely even remembered what he did or who he worked for - but she nodded sympathetically all the same.

"Well, I've had a busy day," she started, internally breathing out a sign of relief once she heard the click of the front door closing after Katya, "so I'm probably gonna turn in early. Got a math test tomorrow."

"You eaten?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. Get some sleep. Don't want you failing that test, now." Chris feigned an encouraging smile, and Trixie forced herself to do the same, although both of them knew that neither were genuine.

She shuffled back upstairs to relieve herself of the awkwardness, shutting her door after her and immediately stepping to the window. Katya was nowhere to be seen, not even at the very end of the road - she clearly didn't want to risk anything and bolted as soon as she got out. In the corner lay a backpack that Trixie recognised as belonging to the Russian, and she quickly gathered the items that were falling out of it and shoved them back in, including a leather journal with what she thought was some communist symbol printed onto the front in red. She hastily tucked the bag and its belongings into her underwear drawer so she wouldn't forget to return them tomorrow - and then she remembered that Katya had mentioned that journal before, about how it was her diary. She'd said no more than that, but...

No. She wasn't going to read it. That was low and essentially the equivalent of going through Katya's phone. It's not that she didn't trust her, but there must have been all sorts of interesting secrets in that diary. Maybe stuff about Trixie. About love.

Again, no. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind and reminded herself that she was going to be an honest, trustworthy girlfriend who would return her bag tomorrow with nothing missing and diary kept sealed shut.

 

\---

 

**[Message from: Katya.] Guess whose favourite bitch is drinking on a school night again?**

**[Message from: Katya.] I love alcohol and self-destruction and immediate regret the next morning.**

**[Message to: Katya.] oh my god no**

**[Message to: Katya.] you gotta stop this**

**[Message from: Katya.] Well, if I can't use sex as my main method any more then I need something else.**

**[Message from: Katya.] Also we probably need to remember to keep an eye on the time before getting carried away at yours.**

**[Message to: Katya.] yeah**

**[Message from: Katya.] Did he suspect anything?**

**[Message to: Katya.] no, i just lied and said i was turning in early bc of a math test tmrw**

**[Message from: Katya.] Nice. I'm accidentally turning you into a delinquent and I kind of love it.**

**[Message from: Katya.] Speaking of, I left my bag at yours.**

**[Message from: Katya.] And my smokes were in there. So. I need to go get some.**

**[Message to: Katya.] don't you dare drive drunk [ERROR: Message failed to send. Delivery stopped by user.]**

 

\---

 

_"Can you just promise me one thing though?"_

_Katya's stiletto acrylics tapped against the steering wheel as they waited at a red light, her eyes still focused on the road ahead. "Depends what it is."_

_"I know we joke a lot about you drinking, but..." The car pulled forward to follow the main stretch of road with the traffic," "...please don't drink drive. I lost my mom in an accident and I don't want you to go out the same way."_

_"...I know," Katya said after a prolonged silence. "I won't. I don't- ...don't worry. I'm not going to and you can count on that. Stop me if I ever try to, yeah? Chances are I won't be thinking straight."_

_Trixie relaxed. "You're never thinking straight."_

_"твоя вина, вы великолепна маленькая блондинка сука," Katya muttered under her breath._

_"What was that?"_

_"I said, 'master comedienne, delivering gay jokes'. But in Russian. Obviously. Gotta keep my first language skills up."_

 

\---

 

**[Message to: Katya.] alright just drive safely please nd text me when you get to 7/11**

**[Message to: Katya.] i dont want you to die**

**[Message to: Katya.] love you**

**[Message from: Katya.] I'm only getting more cigs, you goon. I'll be fine. Love you too.**

 

\---

 

**[Message to: Katya.] oh ym god i jsut got a text from your mom are you oka y ?**

**[Message to: Katya.] katya pick up**

**[Message to: Katya.] pleas ssay youre there and you can just pick uo the phone**

**[Message to: Katya.] katya are you okay answer**

**[Message to: Katya.] katya please please please be there i love you**

 

\---

 

Trixie Mattel didn't exist any more. Physically, she did, but she felt more like a ghost in a hollow body, roaming freely around the city.

She picked up smoking. She didn't want to, but it helped her feel closer to Katya.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i realised that i committed the writer's sin of killing off one half of a happy lesbian couple, but that was going to happen from the start and i guess that's what you signed up for.
> 
> please tell me if you caught any typos or errors because i only did a quick skim-read before posting and it's 3am.


End file.
